


Maybe, Someday.

by watarimiyako



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Good boy Jean, I Wrote This While Crying, Post-Rumbling (Shingeki no Kyojin), sad mikasa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:15:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29064939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watarimiyako/pseuds/watarimiyako
Summary: Mikasa told herself that she didn't deserve to be loved after the death of her loved one. She kept telling that until Jean told her she was beautiful.
Relationships: Mikasa Ackerman/Eren Yeager, Mikasa Ackerman/Jean Kirstein
Comments: 10
Kudos: 72





	Maybe, Someday.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I finally wrapped up this fic! I had a hard time writing this since JeanKasa is another top tier angst ship beside LeviHan. Also, this is my first attempt writing JeanKasa. Happy reading! <3

"You're beautiful." 

The woman with thick onyx eyes kept her mouth shut, ignoring the adoration that came out from the man sitting beside her. Her eyes were filled with a prolonged emptiness after she witnessed the most painful death of her loved ones. From that moment, the sparkles that used to adorn her beautiful eyes faded into ashes. 

Jean averted his eyes to the dusty ceiling above and sighed. He knew, he was not in the place to replace someone that Mikasa used to love. He did realize, he was still not good enough to erase her sadness away. He acknowledged all of those, yet his heart still longed for her - though she did not feel the same way. 

Jean closed his eyes and gulped the sour drink he ordered, which was actually Mikasa's favorite drink, Lemon Juice. He harshly put the glass on the table, making a loud thud inside the bar. Of course, people eyed sharply into his direction, but he didn't care anymore. His mind was full of regrets that he couldn't fix, and that truly stressed him out. Jean had filled himself with guilt after Eren’s death, and every day passed like hell because of the guilt he bore. The tears came out from his eyes while he closed it with his head leaning on the table. He tried to conceal the pain from Mikasa so that she did not have to witness the weak side of him. It was difficult - more than the heart could even decipher – to accept the fact that he killed someone who was a good friend to him. He was hurt, so much, that even until the last breath of his, Eren still thanked him for what he had been doing all these times. 

_ “Jean, thank you. Please take care of her.”  _

_ He said those with all of the blood spreading over his body before he finally closed his eyes. _

The last picture of Eren, where he told Jean to take care of her, still remained clearly on his head. He had no choice but to fulfill the promise because that was the last words he uttered specifically for him. Nonetheless, things didn’t go according to his will; Mikasa had been avoiding him, no, she had been zoning out since Eren died. She barely talked with everyone, even Armin, because Armin was also busy sorting out some stuff as the new commander of Survey Corps. The truth was, Jean was also chosen as the new captain to replace Captain Levi considering the previous captain said that he was going to retire after the war ended. However, Jean still had not decided yet. He needed to buy himself some time to at least, had a peaceful mind after what happened in the past months. He wanted to spend his time with his mother, he wanted to daydream about a happy life with  _ her _ , and he wanted to have spare time to enjoy the  _ peace _ the Eldians just acquired not so long time ago.

Yet, the peace didn’t feel like peace at all. There were so many overwhelming things that happened at once, one of which was Mikasa’s cold demeanor to almost everyone. He could tell the subtle differences between the normal cold Mikasa with her apparent behavior. Mikasa used to exercise every day, even when she was sick, and now she didn’t even try to move her figure unless someone told her to do so. Also, her beautiful ravenette hair started to get thinner day by day and her face was showing a pale expression as if every ounce of her body was taken out forcefully by someone. Jean was utterly worried about her condition, and that’s the reason why he’s at the bar with Mikasa - though, maybe, she didn’t even notice his inconspicuous presence. 

Jean lifted his head after recalling the hurtful memories and he saw a ply of tissue on his table. Somehow, it was indirectly telling him to wipe off his tears. He frowned as he asked himself, 

“Did she just…?”

Jean diverted his eyes to the woman sitting beside him, who still remained with her stoic expression and stiff figure while tapping her long fingers to the wooden table. Jean scrunched his eyebrows as he rubbed his eyes to get a clear picture of the woman, Mikasa. He wondered why she was able to appear so stunning yet delicate at the same time. His brown eyes transfixed on her side profile, which he really loved since their first encounter. Every stunning strand of her ravenette hair captivated him just like how the leaves danced along with the calming wind during the spring season. Her sharp jaw stood out as if it’s able to cut someone’s neck in a blink of eyes, yet Jean found it fragile -  _ because it seemed like she gulped every sadness within herself.  _ As he observed every single feature of Mikasa’s facet, he noticed right away Mikasa was no longer wearing the red scarf that used to embrace her lanky neck. He always knew that Mikasa barely showed without the scarf - except when she was assigned to kill  _ him. _

To satisfy his curiosity, Jean finally let out his thoughts to Mikasa, hoping that she was willing to answer his unusual question, or at the very least, noticed Jean’s presence. 

“Where is your scarf?” Jean asked as his usual baritone voice altered into a high-pitched one. Jean closed his eyes upon realizing he looked like a nervous guy that was trying to hit on a girl.  _ What the fuck, what happened to me. _ He already predicted that Mikasa wouldn’t even bother to answer since she didn’t even pay attention to him. Her eyes were still fixated on the blank wooden wall in front of her. At that moment, Jean let out a heavy sigh and messed his hair frustratingly.

_ I know I shouldn’t have asked that.  _

“I am not in the mood to wear it,” answered Mikasa along with her flattened voice and expression, as she gulped the remaining droplets in her tiny glass. Jean, obviously, was surprised by the following answer, so he stole a glance at her, once again.  _ Ah, she is sad. _ Mikasa’s eyes seemed like it was filled with the enraged clouds before the storm. Its gaze was dimmed as if it didn’t allow any speckles of happiness to fill the empty void or to hush the darkness away. 

A deafening silence conquered their conversation. Jean hesitated to continue the awkward conversation after seeing her gloomy face, which actually was the last thing he wanted to see from her. Jean eyed her and collected every courage within himself to ask her to breathe fresh air outside in an attempt to erase her sadness away. 

“Mika-”

Nonetheless, when he was to open his mouth, Mikasa stood up and - unintentionally - smashed the table as she put the money on the creaky wooden table to pay for their drinks. 

“Bill’s on me,” said Mikasa before she left the bar without even taking a glance at Jean’s startled expression. She went outside the bar by herself and Jean couldn’t help but chase her, without any hesitations, as he wore his long beige coat and hat. 

Jean panted heavily as he was unable to find any of Mikasa’s traces.  _ Is she a cheetah? _ He wondered which place was possible for Mikasa to step on since it’s been ages since she stepped on the outside world. He began to worry as the sky exuded a dark fog against the soil; Jean knew Mikasa didn’t bring an umbrella nor coat to protect her from the rain. Jean was about to give up as he sighed while both of his hands leaned against his knees. He was an inch away to bring his feet to go home until a sudden hint popped out on his mind,  _ I think I know where she is now.  _

* * *

The heavy clouds rolled in as the water started to pour the dimension beneath the sky. There, in a vast yet eerie place, stood a delicate figure of a black-haired woman in front of the damp tombstone. She stared blankly on the stone which was written,

_ Eren Yeager (835 - 854) _

Mikasa didn’t seem to lament nor show any signs of sadness on her face. She was all silent as her body stiffened as if it was bewitched by dark magic. There was no luminescence left within her soul to keep going with her life, even when she still had Armin, the remaining 104th friends, and  _ that guy who insisted on talking to her.  _ She wanted to throw everything away, yet she knew it would only make everything worse than it already was. Her tears, now, no longer stained her puffy cheeks, it was all dried and empty, because she already felt numb since the day he’s gone. She’s too broken to cry, too fragile to be destroyed, and too numb to be hurt. It seemed like everything had been taken away from her, she was now a body without a  _ soul. _

She was like an empty vessel, a zombie who had second chances to be a human again, there was nothing likable and attractive about her. Yet, she wondered why  _ that guy  _ still cared for her. Even when she was alone by herself at home, that guy always stole the chance to check on her; whether by giving her foods made by his mom, cleaning her not-so-dirty yard, or stacking up the untouched newspapers. She was utterly convinced that  _ he knew  _ that she noticed everything he did, but he refused to believe, just because she acted like she didn’t care.  _ She cared, but she didn’t want to show it. _

As she started thinking about that particular guy who was adamant to take care of her, the salty water coming from the low sky started soaking her thin clothes. She didn’t notice it until someone stepped in behind her back, bringing a wide umbrella to protect her from the heavy rain. Mikasa remained in her silence, waiting for the person to start the conversation. 

“What are you trying to do? Standing below the heavy rain with that thin clothes.” A baritone voice finally came out as he wrapped the coat around her shoulder, allowing the woman to feel the warmth in the middle of the cold rain. 

Mikasa only grasped its collar as the answer; her head only focused on the wet soil, biting her lips to show her confusion. She sighed heavily and decided to open her mouth. 

“Why?” asked Mikasa, the trembling voice could be clearly heard from her; however, she uttered the question without eyeing the guy who protected her from the rain. She had no courage to face Jean, yes, the name of  _ that guy who always took care of her.  _ She firmly gripped on the collar that Jean wrapped around her, her lips quivered to hold the tears that were persistent to stain her cheeks countless times. 

Jean frowned upon hearing the odd question as he tried to eye Mikasa’s figure in front of him. 

“Why? What?” 

Mikasa let out a deep sigh, she knew that he clearly heard her question and understood  _ what she meant. _ After having an inner conflict within her mind, she decided to face Jean with every single courage that was left inside her. Mikasa pierced her eyes right onto Jean’s; she was looking for insincerity that might be hidden in his eyes, however, she failed to spot any. Mikasa only found a sincere love and warmth in his eyes. All these times, she had been lying to herself that no one would and could ever love her sincerely because she thought that she didn’t deserve any bits of love after  _ killing the person she loved the most.  _ Mikasa always felt the only thing that remained for her was the unworthiness to be loved and cherished by someone. Yet, that guy, no, Jean, never hesitated to take care of her and asked something in return for everything he had done. 

Jean stood still; his body was somehow unable to move because his eyes were focused on hers. He understood, he clearly knew what Mikasa meant back then. He was just trying to avoid the question because he didn’t want to hear any rejections from her. He didn’t want to lose her just because he conveyed his feelings for her. He never wanted to break the bonds they built after years because of a mere dumb and hopeless confession. Those were his thoughts before he saw Mikasa’s sadness in her beautiful eyes. 

Jean took a heavy breath and brought his left hand to cup her right cheek. He gently caressed her scar that tainted her face with his thumb as he gave her an indecipherable smile. 

“You… You’ve always been a powerful woman, Mikasa.” 

Her eyes circled in surprise when he uttered the words that she barely heard from him. 

“You’re so powerful, yet so fragile. So fragile,” He sighed. 

“Until the point that I am afraid you will finally crumble during an unexpected time when I am not there for you.” He finally let out his concerned thoughts, in front of the woman whom he was always fond of. Jean chuckled as a sign that he stopped talking and put his hand inside his pocket. He showed his smile, again, with his usual warm smile that Mikasa had quietly observed during their trainee days when Jean could laugh freely. 

Never once Mikasa imagined someone would love her sincerely even after seeing her flaws, her sadness, and every broken piece of her. Mikasa constantly thought she was hard to love, where no one could ever break the barrier. Nonetheless, he proved it wrong; Mikasa was hard to love, but Jean loved her harder. Mikasa now realized that his love had always been unconditional; she was just too late to realize and felt the guilt soaring in her mind. Now, she was on the verge of tears; her lips were trembling as her vision was starting to get blurry. She didn’t want to cry, she didn’t want to make him feel guilty anymore. Jean was quick to notice her sad face, he felt sorry for making her sad, again. 

"Mikasa... I am sorry." His voice shattering, his eyes shut harshly, Jean was unable to look at her as he hardened his fists. He’s holding tight himself to not get crumbled in front of the woman.

"What do you mean…?" The woman let out a small voice as if she’s holding her emotions.

"Sorry...” He took a deep breath to calm himself before uttering the latter words. “...For always making you sad." This time, Jean confronted his eyes on hers, showing the regrets and the guilts that had been haunting him every night. 

"Stop. It has never been your fault." Mikasa was quick to accuse. For the very first time, she looked deeply into his unfamiliar gaze. It was her first time looking directly at his eyes that were filled with so much sadness, so much regret, so much guilt. 

"I had no choice." His throat hurt, it felt like someone’s choking him harshly. 

"I know," Mikasa answered as she turned her back on Jean, leaving him breathless. 

A deafening silence was flowing in the atmosphere until Mikasa broke the silence, 

"Just.. wait. A little bit more." 

Jean quickly turned his head to look at her figure. His eyes circled in surprise, his mouth widened as he dropped his umbrella, letting his body be soaked by the rain. 

_ Wait? Wait for what? Wait for me to be dea- _

Jean was drowned in his thoughts until Mikasa took the umbrella and slid it between his cold palms. She wrapped her soft palms around his and slowly caressed it with her thumbs. The feeling of her soft skin meeting his freezing hands was indecipherable. This was the thing he had been craving for a long time. 

_ Warm, she’s warm.  _

“Let’s go, Jean.” She said it with a smile painted on her face.  _ A genuine and sweet smile.  _

Jean threw a smile and held  _ her hands  _ tighter. 

“Let’s go, Mikasa.”

He will never know. She will never know. No, they will never know when love will grow and bloom. Maybe, tomorrow? Maybe, during the spring? One thing for sure, it will surely bloom in the times that they least expected. No one will ever know when the time will come. 

_ Maybe, Someday. _


End file.
